I support things that support me back.

I don't believe in revenge as a practice. I really don't.

But it just so happened that when I was poking around online last night, I saw that Purl had the needles that I need to make those socks. You know the needles. The ones that this one had never heard of. There they were! Ready to be bought! So I bought them.

Now, after all your comments and a lot of soul-searching, I decided I won't go back to the LYS that gave me so much grief about these needles (among other things). Life's too short. And there's no need to get involved in any more nonsense. Why buy the drama when you can get the milk for free? (Oh, wait. That's not how that goes.) It makes me genuinely sad to have to make those kinds of decisions, but it seems like the ethical thing to do. Just put the whole thing down and walk away with loving kindness.

I am happy to give Purl my business, as they have never been anything other than prompt and kind. They also have that kick-ass Purl Bee. So, there's that.

My sock-making, online-buying, picky-needling self is gonna just have to drive a little further to get knitting supplies locally. And that's too bad. But it's preferable to giving my money to a place whose business practices are so problematic.

Thank you for all your thoughts on it. If you have any others, I'm all ears (or eyes, I suppose, in this case).

Back to crafting content with photos tomorrow!

Knowing, needles, and an LYS

So I'm gonna make these socks, right? Right.

Wrong-yarn wrong-needles test? Check.

Run-through of the basic elements of the chart? Check.

Right yarn? Just arrived yesterday. Beautiful hand-dyed.

(As usual, poor quality of photos tells you how beautiful the yarn really is.)

Right needles? Still not in my possession.

Here's where my local yarn store (LYS) comes in.

The story I am about to tell you is from my perspective. Others who were there will tell you a different story, because that's how life is. And that's cool. Everybody's gonna have a different telling, but rest assured, my version will have the most flair.

Also, let it be known that I don't like to call people out. I really don't. But sometimes things are just too egregious to ignore.

Let me start by saying that my LYS is a complex place, made up of complex characters. It is very conveniently located around the corner from my house, so it's got that going for it. However, more often than not, my LYS has That Vibe rocking on full blast. Maybe it's because famous people shop there, maybe it's something else, but those ladies have somehow perfected the art of down-the-nose-vision. As I've said before about this, you're trying to sell yarn, no? You're not weeding the hacks out of the neurosurgery rotation. One day that gravitas is gonna kill a person.

OK. That's too strong. Sometimes they are perfectly cordial to me. Let's just dive in to what happened.

A few days ago, I decided I should just run into the store to buy the needles I needed for these fancy socks so that when the yarn arrived, I'd be ready. So, in the middle of the day I zipped over there. I was in a perfectly good mood, cheerful and friendly. Really. I would tell you if I'd been crabby. I promise you, I was at peace with the world.

There were three women in the store. One works there (the one who literally pushed me over once), one was a Regular who had come to knit for the afternoon. And the third was the Owner, who was sitting in a little knitting area across from the Regular. The latter two were knitting.

Me (to Owner, cheerfully): Hi! I need some needles.
Owner: OK.
Me: Just some double-pointed 1.5 US needles.
Owner (cocks her head to one side and squints a little. I get a little whiff of The Vibe): 1.5 US?
Me: Yep!
Owner: What are you making?
Me: Socks.
Owner and Regular together: OH!
Regular (knitting, not looking up): I've never understood why people make socks. You never see them!
Owner (to the Regular): Oh, there are people who love to make socks. Sockers.
She says "sockers" like someone might say "cancer" or "racists".
My inside voice: I'm standing right here.
My outside voice: I'm making some socks for a friend who asked me to make them for her. It's not that I really l-o-v-e to make socks.
Owner (to me): I've never heard of 1.5 US needles.
Me: Uhm.
Owner: There are 0. And 1. And 2. But no 1.5 US.
Me: Huh. That's what the pattern calls for.
Owner: Well, just because the pattern says it doesn't mean it's right.

At this point, I'm starting to get the sense that this isn't going well.

Employee: Let me show you what we have.
She disappears into the back.

The rest is a bit of a blur, a flurry of very awkward moments.

At one point the Owner tries to engage me with: You've been knitting this summer!
Me: A little, but I've actually been sewing quite a bit.
Owner: Me, too. But it's always with my knitting. What have you been sewing?
Me: I made the Purl Rabbit recently. From The Purl Bee?
Owner: Oh, yeah. She has a nice site. Do you shop from her store online? (very serious) Don't tell me you've bought yarn from her.
Me: I haven't. Cross my heart. I've bought fabric.
The Owner and Regular then get into a conversation about the "Yarn Shopper" and how savvy "they've" gotten, how they'll just look for the best deal online and buy their yarn there instead of in a store.
My inside voice: Again, I am standing right here. In. Your. Store.

The topic returns to needles, and the Employee is now trying to give me some Lantern Moon Ebony needles.
Me: Oh, I've had a bad experience with those. They split.
Owner: You don't know that.
Me: Yeah. I had some that just split and ate my cashmere.
Owner: But these might not.
Me: I've heard from other people that they've had the same experience with that needle. So, I'd rather go with metal. Do you have any metal needles?
Owner: No.
Me: Oh.
Owner: What kind of metal needles would you use?
Me: I haven't used them, but I hear Knit Picks makes good ones.
Owner (fully sponsored by The Vibe): Knit Picks makes needles?
Me: Yeah. They're what the Yarn Harlot uses.
Regular: The Yarn Harlot?
Owner (to the Regular): She's this wildly popular online knitter. I'm telling you, you have to cater to these people, because there are a lot of them.

My inside voice: I. AM. RIGHT. FUCKING. HERE!

Owner (and I swear to God she said this to me with the Vibe-iest Vibe that ever Vibed): For someone who doesn't really make socks, how come you're so picky about your needles?

I tried to make the best of it. I really did. I even bought some needles I didn't really need. The cherry on the sundae? This final exchange as I was leaving:

Owner: You should bring your socks in and come knit with us sometime.
Me (with a smile and a playful tone): I don't know if I will. They are socks.
Owner (not playful. at all.): Oh. Now you've got an attitude!

This was absolutely the craziest display of crazy-making I've seen in a yarn store yet. If they'd been super busy or I'd been acting like a jerk, it would be more understandable. It wouldn't be the best way to treat a customer, but I'd understand. But this? All I can figure is that someone with knowledge they've acquired online has somehow become public enemy number one at this store.

I understand that brick-and-mortar stores are having it rough. I do. I want to support local business as much as humanly possible. But this store is not just having it rough because of The Online. It's saying something when there's a yarn store right around the corner from me, and I'm not in it every day of the week.

Sad.

But here's a question: In the spirit of wanting a peaceful planet, should I take her up on her invitation and go knit with them? Try to better understand the situation?

No, right?

Fancy knitting

Everything about this project is fancy: the pattern, the million-dollar needles, and the yarn. I didn't mention yesterday that I'm using a cashmere yarn for my test run. I know. It's foolish. I'm also using hundred dollar bills to scrub my kitchen, but that's neither here nor there.

So far, the only thing holding up in the fancy department is the pattern.


Nice 'n' fancy.


Ok. So, let's discuss the bendy needles.

You saw this one coming. Were you gonna guess that a needle went snap? If you were, you would've been off by one letter. Take a look.


Closer.


Is that a bit of cashmere sticking out of that needle, and clearly visible in the shadow? Yes, actually! Yes. It is. Right in the midst of knitting all fancy, my needle went snag. I could hang a coat off the piece of wood that's come up off this needle.

What the eff, people? These are million-dollar needles!

"Due to its density, ebony wooden needles take on a fine polish or gloss that only improves with use," says Yarn Market. What they meant to say is, "Upon first use, the Lantern Moon ebony needle will splinter apart abruptly but subtly, leaving a razor-sharp wedge to catch even the finest of yarns every time." I'm gonna just send that correction over to Yarn Market real quick.


Ok, so that brings us to the finest of yarns portion. This yarn is really soft and lovely. I got three balls on sale from the store where they push you over. And knitting with it yesterday was very soothing. So soothing, in fact, and looking so good in this pattern, I decided I'd keep these cashmere tester socks for myself.

CUT TO: Just a minute ago. I did a search for Filatura di Crosa Elen Cashmere yarn. I did this for you, so that you could click on "the yarn" above, and be sent to another site to learn more about the yummy yarn.

And now I take you into my head, only moments ago:

(looking at my search results) Yarndex. That looks good. [click] (reading) Yes. Made in Italy. Right. MSRP $ 17.95. Hmm. My LYS really jacked the price up. Good thing I got it on sale. Yes. Good. Oooooh, look at all those colors. Pumpkin. Mauve. There are like a hundred colors here, and only one is discontinued! Cream. (long, sad pause) Is mine cream? (momentarily hopeful) Maybe it's not. (reading more closely) "DISCONTINUED COLORS: 04 Cream". OK.

At this point, I didn't have the courage to turn my head to look at the yarn label that was just to the left of my left hand. Head still, eyes slowly panning to the left, I looked a the label.

Right under "Colore - Shade Farbe Couleur" was stamped just one thing. The number 4.

No fancy tester socks for me. I'd broken one of the basic rules of knitting: Buy enough yarn for your project when you first buy your yarn. You might never see that yarn again.

Fancy knitting. It ain't all gravy.

What do you know? More blurry photos!

First, a haiku:

Blurry yarn photos.
My theory lives on in them.
Loksins makes me shake.


Second, don't be surprised if I accidentally snap these million-dollar ebony needles in the process of making these socks. They sure are bendy, I tell you what. When I do snap them, I will be sure to say a lot of really crazy cuss words and maybe also accidentally poke some part of my hand or arm with them or something. You know. To make it more entertaining.



And third, knitting is fun! I kinda forgot during the Bunny Flurry how fun knitting is. Sure, sure. In two seconds I'll be griping about how this stitch didn't work or how my gauge is off or something. But for now, I'm in love.

In LOVE!

More Than I Can Chew is my middle name

Has anyone made these?

I've seen lots of them on Ravelry, and a friend has just asked if I'd make them for her.

You're probably thinking a few things:

1. This friend is over-estimating my abilities.
2. This friend doesn't really know my slow-moving ways.
3. This friend may not be a friend once this thing gets going.

Given my track record with sock completion, I am reluctant to really commit. (Yes. There are still outstanding socks from Xmas '06 for my sidekick, my dad, and my brother. And?) This fancy girly sock may be just the thing to get my sock engines revving again. All the unfinished socks are boring tube-like socks. (Sorry, tubes and boys.)

Here's what sold me on doing this fancy sock: This friend said that she's discovered that after reading my blog for a while, clicking through to other sites and seeing other people's creations, she's become a "knitting spectator". How great is that?! Knitting as a spectator sport? Awesome.

I think a knitting spectator should get some kind of reward for their support. The reward may or may not be this sock. That remains to be seen. I'm gonna do a little test sample of the pattern this afternoon and see what comes out.

Just because I don't own needles small enough to make this sock is inconsequential at this juncture. Let's not jump to conclusions about what it means that my needles will be too big, or based on the fact that I'm at a first-grade reading level when it comes to reading knitting charts.

Seriously, let's not jump to conclusions.

You may make wagers if you'd like. That seems different to me somehow.

I need more yarn

...like I need a hole in the head. But these Socks That Rock yarns will not leave me alone. Everywhere I turn, someone is using this yarn to make something delightful.

Cara used it for her mini Monkey socks in Watermelon Tourmaline. Very cute little socks, and I've had my eye on that Watermelon color for a while.

Tiennie used it for her Chevron scarf in Monsoon and Footzey Foo. This is, hands down, one of the most beautiful color combinations I've ever seen. Ever.

A-ha!! In a move that I can only make sense of by thinking the yarn gods are looking after me, Monsoon is only available to the Rockin' Sock Club members. As I am not a member, I shall not be purchasing any yarn today. So there.

I'll bet those grapes were really sour anyway.

Just because I'm fickle doesn't mean I don't love you.

Dear Socks That Rock Yarn,

You are awesome. Let's just start there. Really, really awesome. You're vibrant and robust. You're wonderful to look at. You're a great set of balls. Really. Just look at you.

But after a few tries with you and the Chevron Scarf, I just couldn't make it work. Let's be clear. I do love you. That should not be in question. Just because you're not the right yarn for this scarf, doesn't mean you won't be right for something else. Don't take it personally. Seriously, don't.

You and I are not the only ones to have to rethink a relationship. I'm sure you've seen hundreds of blog posts wherein fickle and guilt-ridden knitbloggers apologize profusely for misleading their well-intentioned and talented yarn. Right?

Look, you are a yarn of noble character, and you're entitled to an explanation. Here's what happened. Yesterday, I accompanied my PIC to the yarn store with the stated purpose of finding yarns for her Chevron Scarf. (We're gonna make these scarves together like we did with the Clapper Project of '05.) Innocent enough.

My PIC was sitting on the floor in front of the cubby with the Colinette Jitterbug yarns, and I was squatting next to her. We held two yarns up together that we were considering, and we thought the combination looked good. As we were looking at them, a woman who works at the store came over, saw the combo, and pushed me she liked it so much.

You know how I'm always saying I want to shove someone and say "Get out!" when something is really great? Like Elaine on Seinfeld. When I imagine doing that, though, I always imagine the other person standing. Not squatting.

Yeah, well, this woman literally bent over and pushed me on my knee so I ended up on my ass she liked the yarns so much. Dudes, she pushed me, and I tumped over. In the middle of the store. Because the lady liked the yarn combination.

It's not a sales approach I'm familiar with, and I don't know what the liability ramifications of this kind of tactic might be, but I think it was effective. I think I got what she was going for.

These do look good together. I think you would agree that I would wear a scarf in these colors. I think.

I could be wrong. I'm willing to be wrong. These might knit up together and be terrible, drab crap. Certainly possible. But I have to give it a try. I have to. Because, seriously? I am not going to get knocked on my ass for nothing.

I trust you'll understand. (You are socks that rock, after all.)

With lots of love,
Dr. B.

The socks

Sock Tube # 1: Yeah, hi. Listen. I was just noticing that you're about to be finished there, and --
Dark Grey Sock: Uhm. And you are...?
ST: It's me! Me! Remember me? We were pals back in the day.
DGS: Oh! It's you.
ST: Yeah! Me!!
DGS: Yeah! Right! You were a tool.
ST: Yes. There's that.
DGS: Yes.
ST: I wasn't very kind.
DGS: No. You were not kind at all.
ST: Ok. Well, see. Let me explain. I --
DGS: Not interested.

ST: I had a lot going on back then. Things were hard for me. I'd had all those rows that got ripped back.
DGS: No excuse.
ST: Yes. Yes! I know that. That's why I've come back around. I read your letter, and I wanted to tell you I'm sorry.
DGS: Really.
ST: Really! I'm sorry for looking down on you and calling you a stubbit. I'm sorry you doubted yourself because of me. I'm sorry you called into question your very sock-ness because I took off.
DGS: Uh huh.
ST: Look, how about we pose together for a photo? You know, for old times' sake. I'll put it up on my fridge to remind me to be a good friend to you.
DGS: Ehn. I don't know.
ST: Look. I know you have no reason to believe me. But, I have changed.
DGS: Changed?
ST: I've spent a lot of time alone, in the bottom of a bag, not seeing the light of day. I've had time to think.
DGS: Uh huh.
ST: Don't you think a sock can change?
DGS: Of course I do. People change socks all the time.
ST: Right! Ha HA! You're hilarious! I'd forgotten how hilarious you are!
DGS: Don't.
ST: Right.
DGS: I suppose I'd consider it.
ST: You would?
DGS: But I still need a kitchener stitch to close up my toe, and my ends need to be woven in. I can't take a picture with my tail all hanging out.
ST: My tail's hanging out, too!
DGS: I don't know.
ST: I'm know I'm not perfect, but I promise I'll try to be a better pal.
DGS: Well...
ST: How about just until you get your mate? Then we can go our separate ways, having had a few laughs.
DGS: It is very kind of you to come all the way back around to apologize. And my mate will probably be a while.

DGS: You did not just reach out and poke me in the side.
ST: So sorry! One more -- with a shot of your heel!

ST: Awesome!
DGS: Thanks for your apology. It takes a really big sock to come back and apologize.
ST: Yeah. We all do and say things we regret. But we don't always say we're sorry. I am sorry.
DGS: Awwww.
ST & DGS: SOCKS!!

An open letter from one sock to another

Dear Sock Tube # 1,

Hey there. It's me -- the sock that used to be a cuff (I put a picture up there to remind you of who I am.) Even though we weren't part of the same pair, we spent quite a bit of time together, you and I. You always had so much to say about how small and skinny I was. You insulted me when there was no cause for it. I reached out to you with forgiveness and understanding, and maybe I lashed out once. But, I was just defending myself. Mostly, I thought we were friends.


Then, the minute I got this heel, poof! You're out of sight. And not in a good way, like, "I really dig you. You're outta sight!" Like, you're just not around me anymore. Yes, you don't have a heel, but no, I don't think that makes you a bad sock. You're just a sock-in-progress. I wish you could see that.

I don't understand. Have you moved on to another cuff somewhere because it's cuter or funnier? Or is it just smaller? Should I have been quieter? Should I have my heel removed because it makes me seem like a show-off? Wow. I just don't think so. But, why oh why would you just not come around anymore? It's gotta be the new heel. But I need a heel to be a sock!

I guess I'll just forge on. Crazy how I could think I should be a sock without a heel. But, when someone important takes off right as I start coming into my own, it makes a sock question things. Like, what is a sock anyway?

Anyway big bully sock, I hope you're well, wherever you are. Just wanted to let you know I'll have a foot and toes soon. And I was hoping you'd come back around sometime. You know, for old times' sake.

Your other belated-Christmas-present friend,

The dark grey sock
(nee "Sock Cuff")

P.S. Who's a stubbit now?!

Check out these balls and HNY!

How were your holidays? I totally missed you!

Good news is: we're back! Bigger and ballier than ever for oh-seven. I've got lots of holiday haul to share -- books, fabrics, photos of flowers. We'll start here for today:

Three balls. One happy lady.

These Socks That Rock yarns are a gift from The People Whose Awesome Genes Made Dr. B. (TPWAGMDB)-- also known as my parents. Let's just call them TP WAG for short from now on. The colors, for those interested, are Chapman Springs (the blue-ish one), X-mas Rock (the yellow one), and Farmhouse (the other one).

One day, those balls will become socks, and someone will wear them on their feet, and no one will ever suspect they're made of balls. Except us. We'll know. And we'll laugh real quiet-like to ourselves.

Because, while you can take your hank of yarn and use a fancy swift and/or ball winder to make a center-pull arrangement as seen here, I did these old school -- carefully draping the skein around my knees and getting a nice little arm workout to make straight-up balls. Yeah, it means I have to put them in a little bag so they don't roll away while I'm knitting. So? And? What's your point? I have some yarns that just sit there while the yarn comes out the top. Big deal. These are balls. Balls roll. Let's just come to terms with it.

Oh, and hey sockers, you know what? The Blue Moon Fiber Arts site (where one would find these delicious yarns) is all new and improved and fancy and great. It says they'll have their new colors up on January 17. Also, has anyone done the sock club? If so, what was your experience with it?

Did I mention I missed you? It's true! I'm so looking forward to an amazing 2007 together, filled with crafty goodness of all kinds. May we all be happy, healthy, and full of love for all things glorious. And may our powers for good reign supreme. Happy New Year, everyone.

Let's talk about socks

Well. For starters, one sock is lovely but not sufficient.


Second. When you knit a sock starting at the cuff and working your way toward the heel and toe in a tube-like formation ("top-down", as opposed to "toe-up"), you (I) just don't ever know how long to make the tube part. It's always a gamble. Am I going to run out of yarn before I get to the toes? Will the tube part be too short if I go conservative? I tend to err on the side of "no one wants a sock that's too short." Hence:

Oh. You can't see it? Let me help you.

Look. It's all well and good. We can call that one little stripe in the midst of all the big stripes a design feature. Who cares?

Well. Here's who cares: Me. Why?

Ostensibly, when you buy your run-of-the-mill sock yarn, you get one sock per ball. (Oh, it's been a long time since there's been something that could be dirty. But there you go!) So, Dr. B. buys 2 balls to make 2 socks. (You see where this is going.)

La la la, I'm knitting the first sock, I'm knitting, I'm knitting, I'm running out of yarn, but still knitting, hoping for some Chanukah-style miracle where -- despite the hard science to the contrary -- there's enough yarn to make it to the toes. La la. Fuck.

Well. I'd best dive into the second ball. (You're welcome.)

It doesn't take a genius to realize that if I was already short a set-of-toes'-worth of yarn on the first sock, the second sock will be short two sets-of-toes'-worth, turning what was a sock into a gauntlet for the foot, a.k.a. a useless tube.

"Just go buy another ball."

Yeah. You just go buy another ball.

Third. My throat still hurts. Unrelated to socks completely, but it's always good to have a set of items here on the old blog.

Overheard between the socks-in-progress

Sock "Cuff"(on right) : You said what?
Sock Tube: What. EVER.
SC: No. No. Really. What did you say?
ST: Nothing.
SC: No. It wasn't nothing. I believe you called me a stubbit.
ST: That was days ago, man. Get over it.
SC: Um... No.
ST: Ugh. Dude. Really.
SC: I'd like to take this opportunity to point out that, not only am I not a stubbit, but I -- unlike some sock tubes I know -- do not have a nubbin right in the middle of my tube-part because my yarn was tied in a knot straight off the skein. Ha, ha. Right there. Right the middle of your tube--
ST: How did this become about me? You're the one who's too skinny and made of poo.
SC: WHOA!
ST: Elephant poo.
SC: Oh my god, are you kidding me?
ST: Yep. Everyone knows you're made of poo.
SC: Just because your nubbin is hideous and you can no longer call me a "stubbit" with any veracity doesn't mean you get to now say I'm made of poo.
ST: Huh, really? Stubbit of poo.
SC: I give up.
ST: Poo stubbit.
SC: Jesus.

Schadenfreude

SOCK TUBE #1: Ha ha. You're a stubbit.
SOCK CUFF: I'm more of an extended cuff.
ST: Stubbit.
SC: Look, I know what happened to you back at the airport last month. So, I'll forgive you for being mean.
ST: What happened to me at the airport?
SC: You know what happened.
ST: It wasn't my fault.
SC: Sure. Never is.
ST: Wasn't!
SC: Whatever. I haven't had to be ripped back about 30 rows like some tubes I know. I'd be upset too if I were you.
ST: Yeah, well. You're too skinny. You should eat a sandwich.
SC: You're not even my partner here, buddy.
ST: You so won't be done in time for Christmas.
SC: What gives, dude? Why are you all up in my business?
ST: You're a stubbit and you're not gonna be done, and I'll always be bigger than you, and... and... you're poking me in the side!
SC: Jeez. Sorry.
ST: (pause) Who am I kidding? I'm not gonna be done either.

There are worse things than the problems I've got going here with the socks-in-progress and their in-fighting. Sure. But, if you'd like, feel free to take a little pleasure in the socks' and my suffering. Someone's gotta win here. It might as well be you.

Hooray for holidays!

But what if his legs were the size of tree trunks?

Well, then, this sock would fit one of said legs perfectly.

I may be having a gauge problem, but I've decided it's too soon to tell such a thing. This picture makes it seem like the sock is fine. (As in, "FINE!")


No? Looks more like a sleeve, you say? Well.

I don't know. Maybe he prefers his socks to be a little less constraining than your average store-bought sock. Maybe he wants to rock that 80's scrunchie-socks-with-Keds look. (Oh, that would be unfortunate for all of us.) Maybe his love transcends any hard or fast requirements for adequate sock fit.

You can read the little history of this sock here and here.

It's fine. And by fine, I mean demoralized. And by it's, I mean me. So, there's the bad grammar of failure back for you: me demoralized.

Sock evolution

The three stages of the handmade sock: ball of yarn, open tube, closed tube.

Turns out, that's also how you spell "oil". (Weird, because "ball of yarn, open tube, closed tube" seems like such a long way to go to spell a very small word.)

Blue Moon

For those of you who've used this amazing-looking yarn, what weights have you used?

The idea of knitting something on a size 0 or 1 needle kinda kills me. But, I'm concerned that the yarn for the size 3 or 4 needle is called "heavyweight". I live in LA. I don't want to be knitting socks for the tundra. Does anyone have any words of wisdom?

It's easier to say no than it is to say yes

What with airport security measures changing every two seconds, I decided to leave my knitting at home for my trip to San Francisco. Yes, yes, I know. Knitting needles are allowed on the plane, but I just didn't want to risk the possibility of dealing with:

(a) some rogue screener person on a mission, out to get the knitters;
(b) the rules changing on my way to the airport; or
(c) because of (a) and/or (b), someone taking away my beloved knitting supplies.

While I realize (a) and (b) are both not really plausible, there's always a chance of (c) as far as I'm concerned.

OK. Truth be told, after figuring out how to cram all my liquids into a quart-sized Ziploc bag, my grouchiness made it nearly impossible to think of anything being fun. Even knitting. So, I didn't pack a single knitting-related item. (And, by the way, if you haven't been asked already, do you know how many liquids you require for a trip? Do you think they all fit in a small Ziploc bag? You'd be surprised how much they kinda don't.)

I regretted leaving my knitting almost immediately. I tried to justify the decision with "It's a really short plane ride" and "When would I have time to knit anyway?" But the lack of sleep and the residual grouchiness from my involvement in the Ziploc-Liquids Experience the night before just didn't help matters. It wasn't the prettiest thing, but I shook it off. It was fine.

My sidekick and I went straight from the airport to our conference. We spent the whole day there, then went to check into our hotel around 5:00. We were both exhausted and thought we'd take a nap before going out to dinner. When we got into our room, I dropped my bags in the living room, and my sidekick went into the bedroom to put his things down.

SIDEKICK (from the bedroom): Hey! Come check out our view.
ME (from the living room): What do you want.
SIDEKICK: Come CHECK OUT OUR VIEW!
ME (tired): I'll be there in a second.
SIDEKICK: But it's a really good view!
ME: Okay. (still with traces of the grouchy)

With a little bit of foot-dragging, I went into the bedroom where my sidekick was standing next to the closed blinds.

ME: What.
SIDEKICK: Look!

He slowly opened the blinds to reveal a view of a tiny little street and a long stretch of apartment buildings. And one tiny storefront.

SIDEKICK: Look what's right there.

Right there, all small and unassuming, with the cutest things in the window, just sitting there almost smiling at me, was Greenwich Yarn and Stitchworks. Yarn? Does that say yarn? Is that yarn? Yarn! Right outside our window!

Is my sidekick not the cutest? And can you believe there was that knitting store right there? Like RIGHT there.

Nap? Postponed. Store? Adorable and open till 6! Sidekick? Treated me to these:



He is the soon-to-be proud owner of 100% Merino wool Koigu socks, solid charcoal color 2409 courtesy of Greenwich Yarn & Stitchworks.

Life is lovely sometimes.

(For the record, "soon-to-be" = "hopefully no later than Christmas.")